


finding comfort

by pleasurific



Series: prompt fills [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Age Difference, Circle Jerk, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Come Kink, Come Swallowing, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Extremely Underage, First Time Blow Jobs, Incest, M/M, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Shota Stiles Stilinski, Shotacon, Underage - Freeform, Voyeurism, stiles is eleven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16775062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasurific/pseuds/pleasurific
Summary: anon prompt from tumblr:Ooooh oooh more Sheriff/Stiles please!In which Stiles has an oral fixation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **PLEASE mind the tags.**
> 
> Fills the "oral fixation" square of my Teen Wolf Kink Bingo card.

It's something that happens by accident, at first. Obviously it does. 

The thing is, Stiles has had an oral fixation ever since he was a baby. He'd suckle on Claudia's breasts for long periods of time, not as much for the milk but for the comfort it seemed to give him. He'd suck on his thumb after he was weaned, even on his toes for a while when he figured out how to twist his body so he could reach them. He'd sleep with an entire fist in his mouth. Pacifiers or any other toys never worked, he only ever wanted real body parts, most of the time his own. 

So it's not a surprise when something like this happens. John only wonders how it is that it took this long. And maybe, had there been a hint of it earlier, when Stiles was even younger, John would have been able to put a stop to it.

The first time, Stiles was eleven. It was barely a year after Claudia died and they'd both spent most of that year walking around as if nothing mattered. They were only just snapping out of that daze, coming back to reality. And to each other, really, because John knew that he'd kept his distance from his boy, from the reminders of his wife. 

"Bonding time, kiddo," he started telling Stiles more often. 

John would turn on a movie, or he'd just ask Stiles to do his homework across the table while John flipped through and worked on cases that he brought home. It was going well, but then Stiles started moving closer, wanting more and more physical contact. John was grateful for it, really, having been deprived of hugs under the guise of being "manly" and tough. 

So Stiles would sometimes sit on the floor in front of the couch, between John's legs, his head resting against the inside of one thigh for periods of time. John usually put his hand onto Stiles's head, ran his fingers over the boy's buzzed hair, sometimes slipped his hand onto Stiles's shoulder and squeezed gently. And Stiles would start nodding off on days when they'd start watching a movie too late in the evening. 

His son was eleven the first time he nodded off and turned around at John's feet so that he was facing John's crotch, when the sugar high from his birthday cake wore off. He was eleven the first time he leaned forward and landed face first right next to John's soft cock and balls, then nuzzled against them and continued sleeping. Stiles was eleven and two days when it happened again, only this time he seemed to aim right for John's cock, his little upturned nose digging into the rapidly hardening flesh. 

John froze and held his breath, then gently moved Stiles's head to a safer spot. 

But the next day, Stiles did it again, his nose most definitely seeking out the spot right next to John's cock that didn't seem to get the memo that this wasn't something to get turned on about. 

It was contact, physical contact with parts of his body that hadn't been touched in quite some time and that wanted attention, regardless of its appropriateness. 

Then, a few nights later, after John had gotten busy with work, they started watching a movie — Stiles on the couch next to John, leaning against his father's side -- late enough that _John_ ended up nodding off, exhausted after the past few days' work. He woke up with a start out of a particularly arousing dream and he scrambled to get a blanket to pull over his lap. In his post-nap daze, he still remembered that he was only wearing a pair of ratty old boxers that usually had trouble staying in place. 

He was, however, too out of it to realize something else. 

Stiles had apparently moved while John was asleep, from the couch down onto the floor and between John's open thighs. And now the boy's face was turned towards John, his nose and mouth right against the base of John's very definitely hard cock. He wasn't asleep either, though he did look like he was -- his eyes were closed and his body slumped against John's leg. But there was no mistaking the suckling motion that his mouth was making, one he sometimes did when he was asleep and his thumb was in his mouth, but one that most often indicated that Stiles was very much awake. 

John's cock twitched and a wave of guilt washed over him. This was his son, his lips on John's cock and the soft skin of his ballsac, sending sparks of arousal right to John's balls.

"Stiles," John said, voice rough from sleep and arousal. 

"Mhm," Stiles hummed, the vibrations running down John's length. 

"Kid, you can't," John tried to stop him, but his hands refused to move, clenched in fists by his hips. 

Stiles hummed again and shifted his head just a fraction up, then he opened his eyes and looked into John's, his pretty pink lips open. Then his tongue poked out and when he ran it over his bottom lip, the position he was in caused it to slide over John's skin too. John's cock twitched and Stiles's eyes widened, then his tongue moved again, this time deliberately over the soft skin of the cock, like he was trying to get a better taste. 

"Kid..."

Stiles licked again, eyes wide and locked with John's, whose fists clenched tighter and still refused to move. He knew he should, that what was happening most definitely wasn't something that _should_ be happening. But his cock was throbbing at the sight between his legs and the touch of his son's tongue along his length. 

Then Stiles moved again, lifted his body a little and his tongue ran over the entire length of John's cock from the bottom all the way to the head, then over the slit that was leaking precome. 

John cursed under his breath and Stiles's eyes widened, but then the corner of his mouth quirked up and he repeated the motion, his little tongue curling as it reached the head of John's cock and scooped up the precome that was gathering there.

"Stiles," John breathed out, his balls tight and his cock hard and throbbing. 

Stiles smiled softly and shifted to his knees, then he put his hands on John's thighs and leaned forward, licking up the length of John's cock again. And again. Like it was a popsicle and he was chasing the melting drops. Only it wasn't flavored water but precome that was leaking out of John's slit as he failed to move at all, too focused on stopping himself from coming all over Stiles's flushed face. 

Then, as if he knew that John was having trouble keeping himself together, Stiles's lips wrapped around the head of John's cock and he sucked harder than he did before. 

"Fuck," John managed to blurt out just before his balls tightened and he started coming, unable to stop it this time. 

Shaking with his orgasm, John watched as ropes of come fell onto Stiles's face and into his open mouth, the small pink tongue moving around to catch as much as possible. 

As his orgasm started fading away and John started catching his breath, Stiles sat back on his heels and kept looking at him, his face painted with come and his hands down in his own lap. When John dared to look down, he saw his son's pajama bottoms pushed down just below his small cock, one of the hands wrapped around it and moving up and down. 

"Mine doesn't to that," Stiles said into the silence a moment later. "The gooey thing." 

John cursed again, this time only in his mind. 

"And yours is bigger," Stiles added, sounding disappointed.

"That's because you're only eleven," John said, voice catching as another fact crashed into his mind. "It will grow."

 _We shouldn't have done this,_ he thought, but he couldn't get the words out. 

"Tastes nice," Stiles told him, hand still moving fast, tongue scooping up all the come from around his mouth that he could reach. "Is mine going to taste like that too?" 

Before John could answer, Stiles's face scrunched and then he let out a gasp, his tiny cock twitching with a dry orgasm. They sat there like that for a while after, John frozen with shock and trying to cope with the guilt that was seeping into every pore of his body, Stiles panting and glancing between his own cock and John's softening one. 

"It's not as big anymore," Stiles said a while later, reaching out to touch it. 

Oversensitive and very awake, John flinched at the contact, but his cock clearly had no issues as he felt it twitch like it was trying to get hard again. Then, without warning, Stiles leaned in and wrapped his mouth around the soft flesh, taking most of it into his mouth. Immediately, he started suckling on it like he normally would on his thumb or on whatever was in his mouth that was giving him comfort. He visibly relaxed and his body slumped against John's leg again, his mouth never moving off of John's cock. 

It felt too good. Despite being sensitive still after coming, the warmth and slickness of Stiles's mouth was a comfort, not in an arousing way. And Stiles was more relaxed than John had seen him in a long time, soft and quiet, only his mouth moving as he continued to roll John's soft cock in it. John's hand finally moved, but only to rest on the top of Stiles's buzzed hair, right at the back of the boy's neck, his thumb softly stroking the nape. 

"You okay?" 

Stiles hummed around John's cock quietly, then sucked a little harder, just the once, when he felt the twitch caused by the vibrations of his voice. John's body gave up all intentions of moving and he sat there, eyes unfocused and staring into the distance as his son continued to suckle on his spent cock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon prompt from tumblr: 
> 
> Holy fuck that stilinskicest fic. It made me think of a prompt. Can stiles' oral fixation lead him to have a cum kink? Like he's obsessed with cum, he really feels the need to swallow lots of cum, and since john feels guilty about that incident, stiles starts to experiment elswhere, offering free blowjob to everyone, derek, or john's deputy parrish, anyone you can think of as long as they cum in his mouth, and that makes john super jealous and he fucks stiles mouth & cum into his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **PLEASE mind the tags.** Several new ones have been added to this story, so please check them.

The thing is, once Stiles gets used to being a cock warmer, he can't seem to stop. And it's not only holding John's soft cock in his mouth and gently suckling on in, it eventually becomes more about having his mouth filled to the brim, either with John's hard dick or with come. 

John was already feeling guilty for letting his son use his cock for comfort, but when Stiles keeps sucking it over and over until John comes in his mouth, it's too much. When Stiles turns thirteen and his growing cock gets hard every time he sucks John off, the guilt takes over and John puts a stop to even the cock warming and their movie nights.

"We can't, kid," he tells Stiles, pushing him away not only physically but also emotionally. 

He almost falls back into the trap of whiskey afterward, when Stiles gets restless and fidgety more and more, back to how he used to be when he was younger. Before Claudia died. Before that first time when he sucked John's cock during a movie night. 

The distance between them grows over the next year, as Stiles tries to convince John to go back to the way they were and John flat out refusing to even entertain the idea. 

Then Stiles turns fourteen, hits the "close the door and sulk in the room" stage of his puberty and John honestly breathes a sigh of relief. He still thinks about his son's mouth, still imagines it when he jerks off alone in his bedroom, still dreams about it sometimes and wakes up with his pajamas soaked in come like _he_ is the one going through his puberty. But he never mentions it to Stiles, doesn't budge from his decision to never go there again. 

Stiles is not yet fifteen when the Hale kids come back to Beacon Hills and all hell breaks loose. Suddenly there are werewolves and hunters and magic and who knows what else that completely takes over their lives, leaving no room for sentimental trips down memory lane or residual feelings of guilt. 

And Stiles seems to settle down. John almost doesn't notice, but when the biggest bads -- Peter Hale, for one, who was supposed to be in a coma but somehow managed to _heal_ from burns inflicted on him in the fire that completely destroyed the Hale mansion and drove the surviving kids, Derek and Laura, out of town -- are dealt with and everything settles, he realizes that his son is no longer acting like he wants to climb out of his own skin daily. 

At first, John thinks that it's because he's growing up and out of the restlessness that was so present during his childhood, with the exception of two very specific years between eleven and thirteen, when he had the comfort of John's cock. But then all three Hales leave town for a month and within days, Stiles is a bundle of energy and almost bouncing off the walls. The way he was right after John put a stop to the cock warming sessions and Stiles sucking him off. 

It's Peter who comes back to Beacon Hills for good first, having had nothing in New York -- where the Hales went to for the month -- to pack up and bring back, since he hadn't been there before. He's "better", or so he says, but John has his doubts since he was partly responsible for the mayhem that got John introduced to the world of werewolves. So he asks his Deputies to keep a close eye on the apartment in town where Peter settles down. The only unusual thing that seems to happen around there though, is Stiles being a frequent visitor, whether there's something supernatural happening -- because it always seems to, even if it's less of a mayhem than right after the Hales showed up -- or not. 

"Son, Parrish was telling me he saw you at Peter Hale's place the other day," John opens the subject during dinner one day, cautiously, making sure he sounds curious instead of accusatory. 

"Um, yeah," Stiles tells him between two bites of his dinner. "He's been showing me the Bestiary he has from before the fire and some old diaries from his family. Deaton wants me to find out if I can use the spark I have a little more, so I've been researching." 

It's a reasonable enough answer and while John's brain still stutters a little on the fact that his son apparently has some sort of ability to make things magic, or whatever it is that he does, he can't exactly question Stiles based on nothing. A few more weeks pass and then Derek and Laura come back, each getting their own place in town. John figures that Stiles will redirect his questions to Laura, since she's the Alpha of their small pack, but Stiles keeps visiting Peter and adds Derek to the mix. It's not all that surprising, since Derek's only a few years older and they seem to have a connection, if the awkward non-flirting John has witnessed is anything to go by. 

Through all that, Stiles stays calm and like he's found a way to comfort himself instead of the way he used to with John. There wouldn't be much to question, but John _is_ an investigator and a police officer. And he knows his son. 

One of the nights when Stiles declares that he's going to stay over at Derek's loft for a pack night, since he's somehow a part of their little pack, John is at work and decides to take on patrol duty. He drives past Derek's house, then past Peter's apartment, but doesn't find their cars there, so he decides to head out to the Preserve. He knows that's usually one of his Deputies' route and he's not surprised when he finds the other patrol car at the end of a dirt road leading to what's left of the old Hale house. John pulls up behind it and sets off on foot into the forest, one hand holding the flashlight, the other on his holstered gun, just in case. 

Not that he was told about anything strange in the woods these days -- Laura's been pretty reliable in keeping him informed -- but he figures caution is never a bad thing. 

When he approaches the tree line that surrounds the house, he starts hearing quiet talking and then a low moan. He immediately recognizes Jordan Parrish's voice and freezes until he realizes that it's not a painful moan. John turns off his flashlight and steps closer, careful not to make any sounds. 

He does okay until he has a clear sight of the house. Or what's left of it. 

There, in the space between the trees, at the remnants of the burned down house, are four figures he recognizes. Three of them are standing -- Peter Hale, Derek Hale, and Deputy Parrish whose patrol car John saw earlier. But then there's another figure, the most familiar of them all. 

Stiles is on his knees on the ground, looking up at the men standing in a circle around him, and he's smiling like John hasn't seen him smile in a long time. His mouth is open and his tongue is sliding over his lips. His come-covered lips. it's when that fact registers that John notices that the three men around his son have their flies open, their cocks hard and pointed toward Stiles, all three of them stroking the cocks slowly. It's Peter's that has come still spurting at Stiles's face, into the boy's open and waiting mouth. 

John is frozen in place, obscured by the tree he hasn't passed yet. He watches as Stiles shuffles on his knees, turning towards Derek, who speeds up the strokes of his cock and then stops, leaning forward until Stiles's mouth is right next to it and then on it, swallowing it down, his pink lips stretched around the head. Like John has seen him do many times -- _too many times_ , he used to think -- before, Stiles sucks expertly, hungrily, like he can't get enough. Derek smiles down at the boy and starts stroking his dick again, only the parts not in Stiles's mouth. 

Then Peter starts talking, loud enough for John to hear in the silence of the forest. 

"You like that, kid, don't you?" He asks Stiles, who nods jerkily, not moving his mouth off Derek's cock, not stopping the sucking motions. "It's not even just having something in your mouth, is it? You want all the come we can give you. All of it." 

There's another small nod and then Derek's fist stops moving and Stiles sucks harder until there's come dribbling from the corners of his mouth even as he keeps coaxing more out of Derek's cock. When he pulls away, he opens his mouth and even John can see the come in his son's mouth for a moment, until Stiles swallows down as much as he can, his lips painted with the bits he can't. 

"Wanna try Jordan next?" Peter asks. "Make sure he doesn't go talking about how he caught you sucking Derek off when he was on patrol that one night? That he doesn't tell anyone how you like to get in the car with him or me and let us drive you to a dirt road just so we can fill your mouth with the come you crave so much?"

Peter isn't finished talking when Stiles turns to Parrish, who -- as far as John can guess -- is not far away from shooting his load down the boy's throat. 

"That's why you came to me, isn't it?" Peter keeps talking. "Because you couldn't get what you wanted. Because you got addicted to sucking cock and having your mouth painted with come." 

Stiles nods again, eagerly, just before he sinks his mouth over Jordan's cock. 

"I wonder, is it the uniform? Does that make it better?" Peter asks, his smirk visible in the light of the lantern between him and Derek that’s illuminating the space. "Does it make you think of the cock that started it all?" 

John almost gasps at those words and wonders if Peter knows. If Stiles told anyone about those times when he used to nurse on John's cock. 

"I think it does," Derek says. "I think that's what he really wants." 

Parrish doesn't seem concerned with what they're talking about, too busy thrusting his hips towards Stiles's face, his cock into the come-painted mouth. John's own cock is hard and leaking in his slacks as he watches his son like this, on his knees, sucking the three men's cocks like he can't get enough. Drinking come that's not John's. 

"I think his Daddy might regret his decision, if he knew how eager you are for come," Peter says, still grinning. "I think he might not like your mouth being filled by someone else."

It's like he can read John's mind. Like he _knows_ that John's there, in the shadows, hand on his tented pants, teeth clenched as jealousy rises in his chest, seeing Stiles's face fucked. 

"I think he should join us," Derek says pointedly.

John's eyes widen, but he thinks Derek doesn't know, doesn't mean right now. Until his head clears for a beat just as Parrish shoots come onto Stiles's face and John remembers that the two Hales are werewolves, that they do know he's there. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he steps out of the shadows and starts walking towards them. His cock is throbbing in his pants, but he keeps them up until he stops right in front of Stiles. 

"Daddy," Stiles whispers, breaking the silence. "Daddy, _please_." 

John knows what his son wants. There's still come from the three men watching now, smeared on his face, droplets on his chin where they landed. And still, Stiles is on his knees in front of John, asking for more. 

"What do you want, kid?" John asks. 

"Can i suck you, Daddy? Please?" Stiles asks, his big brown eyes wide open and pleading as much as his words are. "I missed it. Wanted it."

"Didn't get your fill from these three?" John asks, glancing around at Peter, Derek, and Parrish. 

"It's not the same. They're not you." 

John knows what he's going to do. He knows that he's going to unzip his pants and offer his cock to his son, have the three men around them watch Stiles take it into his mouth and suck on it like he used to since he was eleven, until John's guilt took over and he put a stop to it. But tonight, watching Stiles so hungry for come, so eager to swallow load after load, seeing him on his knees for men who are not him, has reminded John of what they had. It made him forget the guilt and _want_. 

"Okay," he tells Stiles. "Since you're asking so nicely." 

Stiles's entire face lights up as he watches John's hands reach down to his waist and then lower, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper of his slacks. John's cock stretches out the fabric of his underwear and he pulls it out, hard and leaking already. It's been throbbing from the first moment he saw what was happening here and now he can't wait to put it where it belongs -- into his son's waiting mouth. 

Stiles immediately leans forward towards John's crotch. His tongue peeks out and licks over the wet slit. John shivers and his cock twitches. He wraps his hand around it tighter, leaving enough for Stiles to put his mouth on and he closes the distance between them, his cock sliding between Stiles's waiting lips. Immediately, his son closes his mouth over John's head and sucks hungrily. 

"You feel so good, kiddo," John tells him. "Missed your mouth on me." 

In response, Stiles hums and sucks harder for a beat, then rolls his tongue around the head of John's cock, his lips curling into a smile. His eyes are already glazing over, like just having his mouth on his father's cock is calming him almost to sleep. 

"Oh baby," John whispers and cups a hand around Stiles's cheek, feeling as his son's jaw moves while he licks and sucks on John's cock slowly, not rushing him to finish but not too softly. "I'm sorry I stopped this. Should have never made you look elsewhere," he adds, glancing at the three other men who are watching them. "But maybe it was for the best. You enjoyed them too, didn't you?" 

Stiles hums but it's not complete agreement, it's a maybe. 

"I saw that you did, kid," John tells him. "Maybe some days I'll let you get your fill elsewhere. Maybe I'll let them fill your mouth like they did tonight. But at the end of the day, you're coming home to me. To this." 

He punctuates the last words with a pointed look at all three men, waiting until they nod in understanding. John has enjoyed watching them, he can't ever say he didn't, but he wants them to understand that he's not going to let it happen again, not without his knowledge and permission. 

"That's it, kid, get what you need," he tells Stiles then, stroking the boy's cheek. "You're so good." 

Stiles smiles as much as he can, his mouth full of John's cock, his eyes closed now as he keeps sucking on it. John's close, he feels his cock throb as Stiles's tongue rolls around it and his balls are starting to draw up. 

"Open up, baby," he says and watches as Stiles reluctantly pulls away and his lips part. 

John smiles and strokes his cock a few more times, the head of his cock right at Stiles's bottom lip. Then his balls tighten and he starts coming, spurting all over Stiles's waiting tongue and into his mouth. Stiles doesn't swallow at first, but he tips his head back so nothing drips out. Then, as John's cock stops throbbing and spurting come, Stiles's lips close and he swallows everything he has in his mouth. 

"There's a good boy," John says with a smile. "Now, let's go home and clean you up. And no more going looking for others. Not without me."

Stiles lets John lift him off the ground and he leans against his father's side, sleep and tiredness taking over. John nods at Derek, Peter, and Parrish -- a promise of a repeat of tonight, but on his own terms. The men all nod back but don't follow them as John leads Stiles away, into the woods and towards the cruiser. They only stop when they've reached the car and Stiles turns to him with a sheepish smile. 

"I'm sorry, Dad," he says. "I just missed it. Wanted it. But they weren't you." 

"Is that why you needed all three of them?" John asks him, teasingly. 

"I guess so." 

"Well, son, I'm not impressed that you went looking elsewhere, but that's not going to happen again, is it?"

Stiles shakes his head. 

"I do only mean the part where you went looking for cocks to suck," John tells him, clarifying. "I rather enjoyed watching you tonight. So, if you're up for it, we can make that happen again." 

He doesn't need to look at Stiles to know that he's nodding. After all, he saw how much his son enjoyed being like that, having come fill his mouth by both the Hales and by Parrish. And John already has plans for the next time. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://pleasurific.tumblr.com/) too!


End file.
